


Find Me In The Ruins

by illusionists



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, basically they are LAME and in LOVE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26391517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illusionists/pseuds/illusionists
Summary: “Yes-” but… Goddess, this would bug him.He knew it was best to leave it alone, but the word hung heavy on Lin’s tongue. He wanted to say it, yet he couldn’t bring himself to. His mouth formed, and it couldn’t move to let it out. But…Linhardt chewed on his bottom lip.“- But I’m not satisfied, Byleth.”______________________________Linhardt and Byleth discuss the nature of their relationship, their feelings, and plans for the future in the downtime of preparations for the next battle... Among other things.(also see: who knew monastery ruins were good for falling in love?)
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Find Me In The Ruins

**Author's Note:**

> so... that no nsfw on main rule of mine got shot to shit

Sunlight came in through the windows of the Black Eagles’ classroom.

Rather, at least what was left of it.

Everyone else had been far gone. Most of them never hung around the crumbled remains. 

Most, except for Linhardt. 

Despite transferring classes, there was something about the Black Eagles’ room that made him feel a sense of nostalgia. The ruins of it still brought peace to him.

He had passed out, face planted into the book on his desk. Which, admittedly, was a romance novel. His arms were outstretched in front of him, and his hands just barely dangled off the end of the table. 

In his dreams, he usually was at a grand library, one full of books about Crests. Even things banned from Garreg Mach. 

But these days, he found himself dreaming about one person in particular.

_Professor, of course._

Within a cozy dream, Byleth sat on the floor of the library, back rested against a bookshelf, while Linhardt curled up next to him. He was snuggled so tight under his arm. To Linhardt, this was all he wanted.

_His professor spoke to him, but it felt so life-like for a dream. “Linhardt?” He called._

_Linhardt looked up at Byleth, his eyes full of admiration for the man._

_Byleth put a hand on Linhardt’s shoulder and shook him softly. “Linhardt, wake up.”_

_Huh?_

  
  


“Come on…” Byleth’s voice trailed as he kept shaking his former student. 

  
  


Linhardt groaned. He wasn’t ready for that dream to end. He looked at his professor, only now his eyes were half-lidded and his brows furrowed as he pouted. He hated how fussy he sounded. “Why?”

_Why wake me?_

The rest of the words couldn’t even be formed. Linhardt was too groggy to even bother.

“I know, I know,” his late professor said, “you _hate_ being woken up.”

And Linhardt _did_ . _Rightfully so_.

“But, you missed our tea time.” 

“ _Tea_?” Linhardt grumbled.

He realized how upset his professor had sounded, before he remembered. 

‘ _Riiiight_ -’

“We made plans last week.” Byleth looked painfully unamused. Then again, didn’t he always? There were hardly any emotions to his face or his voice- _ever._ “Tea, and the library.”

When Linhardt considered it, he wondered if that was the basis of his dream.

Still, Linhardt was half asleep, and so was the part of his brain that censored what he wanted to say. He couldn’t help but giggle, blurting out, “Professor, that sounds like a _date._ ”

  
  


“Guess so.” Byleth sat down in the empty chair next to Lin, shoulders slumped as he leaned in. 

Even though the classrooms would likely never be used again, everyone worked on clear orders to keep things in tact. The desks and chairs were repaired- all original. “Being late for a date is just as disappointing.”

  
  


_Was this a date?_

And Professor had been… _disappointed?_ He spoke like he must’ve been looking forward to this... _date_. It stirred something in Linhardt. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face.

It was hard for Linhardt to not drift back on the idea of a _date-_ rather than drift back to sleep. He’d been on dates before, certainly. But it was always agreed upon that it would be a date. This, however-- was he just looking too much into it? And yet, Professor did call it a date, even if only after he joked about it.

Linhardt’s head slightly spun. Despite being with people over the years, no one made him overthink nearly to a migraine like this.

And then, when he thought of the years, he thought of how kind they were to Byleth. He still practically looked the same. Even his lightened hair didn’t change in the slightest. Still painfully beautiful, still Professor.

“Is it too late?” Drowsiness cracked his voice- a dead give away he was still sleepy, in contrast to his racing thoughts. _Damn them- and_ **_him_ ** _too._

Byleth shrugged. “I don’t think so.” His voice was calm as he spoke. “Can you wake up?” He reached over to tuck a sleep-frizzed piece of hair behind Lin’s ear.

Linhardt instinctively leaned into his touch. “You make that hard to do, Professor.” Waking up was impossible when his warm hands touched Linhardt’s cold face. Like a cat to a sunny patch of grass. Who knew Professor’s touch could be so comforting?

Would a date with him be this comforting? 

_‘No’_ , Linhardt hissed in his mind, _‘Bad_.’

Thoughts like that weren’t safe for his heart.

Even if it was sunny, it was still winter. Cold as to be near freezing some days. The old wooden desk creaked under Linhardt’s weight shifting, propping his head on now stacked arms.

Byleth’s hand moved up to the top of Lin’s head. His thumb stroking circular motions on his forehead. He felt as if he was petting an overgrown, green feline.  
Yeah, Linhardt could definitely fall back asleep. He _would’ve_ \- had the shock of what Byleth said not woken him up completely. “You know-” his thumb stopping “-you don’t have to call me _‘Professor’_ anymore.”

Lin jolted up, his eyes wide. He knew that. They had certainly… _Gotten close_. It was a slow and eventual thing when they reunited. 

Seeing Professor- _Byleth_ \- again kept him sane. He wondered if it was the same for Byleth, too. Did he look at Linhardt and feel a sense of familiarity? What memories did Byleth see when he thought of him?

It wouldn’t be a problem for Linhardt to answer any of those. 

Then he considered.

Maybe it was those memories that made _falling in love_ with Byleth so easy.

_By the fucking Goddess_ \- he said it, didn’t he? Admitted his shameful feelings for Byleth?

Over months, they spent more time together than apart. Even sleeping, Lin could roll over and know Byleth was behind him. Rarely had they gone farther than caressing, gentle cuddles, however, what mattered was Byleth’s warmth…

But never a formal date. _Lovely._

They never had a name for this- whatever this was. No real name to a face. Were they.. _A couple?_ It was never discussed. Lin was rambling in his mind- _how sad_. Those ideas were quickly shooed away.

Linhardt shook his head, an attempt to get the shock off him. “You’re right,” he paused with a deep exhale, “Byleth.”

Call it habit, or call it confusion for not having a proper title. As far as Linhardt was concerned, Professor was Professor. Well, unless he wanted to be something more. But that was neither here nor there.

Byleth smiled- a beautiful sight- and patted Linhardt’s shoulder. “Are you awake now?”

“Yes-” _but… Goddess, this would bug him._

He knew it was best to leave it alone, but the word hung heavy on Lin’s tongue. He wanted to say it, yet he couldn’t bring himself to. His mouth formed, and it couldn’t move to let it out. _But…_

Linhardt chewed on his bottom lip. 

Byleth stood up.

It’d be easier to say when Byleth wasn’t looking at him. Linhardt could say it to his back, but not to his face. Not to his… Crush.

There was no need to do that to himself, though. Why not? He was in perfect bounds to say it. If they caressed and cuddled, and were hardly apart- yet this was finally labeled a date? 

A fire lit inside of him.

Linhardt couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer. Time hadn’t been kind to him, and he wasn’t going to let this semblance of a relationship be another casualty of it.

“- But I’m not satisfied, Byleth.”

  
  


Byleth stopped in his tracks. The world around them seemed to silence itself. The only noise was the swish of his coat, as Byleth turned back around to face Lin. His eyes grew with amusement.

Was Linhardt reading him correctly? Why did Byleth look intrigued?

Linhardt waited for one heartbeat, then another. If Byleth wasn’t going to say anything, then he’d have to. 

“What is it that we’re doing?” asked Linhardt. They had enjoyed all the spoils of a relationship without crossing that line. His eyes burned. He shut them in some sad attempt to stop the tears from rolling, but he couldn’t fight it. One tear slid down. 

_No, no, no_ \- Lin felt foolish to cry. He should never allow himself to think, or catch feelings. Was he really that in love? Was he allowing himself to be unraveled by the prospect of a _date_ ? _The answer was yes._

It was embarrassing, and even more so was it oddly freeing. These things were begged to be voiced. Had been. 

A thumb swept away the tears on his chin.

Linhardt didn’t have the strength to open his eyes and see the man in front of him. “I need to know your intentions,” he paused, choking on the words too hard to say. “Tell me what it is you want, so I know where to place my hopes.”

Linhardt couldn’t say _‘before I fall in love’_. It was too late. He called himself naive, but it wasn’t really childish to feel this way, was it? To share such intimacy, both physically and emotionally- that was something couples did.

_And they weren’t one._

But love wasn’t weakness. Not like Lin told himself it was.

Love had brought him to the Goddess Tower all those years ago, he supposed, and love was going to take him further. Because… He’d been suppressing these feelings longer than he had realized.  
  


Byleth was a wall in front of him. Unreadable in nearly all ways. His eyes were always a dead give away, which were looking down. He, too, couldn’t face Linhardt. 

In his coat pocket was the ring his father gave him. As he gave his mother, so Byleth would give to someone he loved as much.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, his tone quiet.

War threatened to take away everything, and everyone, that Byleth had ever held dear. He’d seen it first hand. Death’s cold touch took away the people he loved in a blink. 

And at times, he had been Death, too. 

It was something he tried to ignore, but on those battlefields were also someone’s spouse, someone’s family, that he cut down. His gut would wrench at the thought. When the realization first hit, he’d thrown up- the nausea unbearable. Not that anyone had seen that. Never would they.

Byleth never considered it before. As a mercenary, it was pure survival instincts. No time to put thoughts to his actions. 

Another battle was impending, and it was the only thing Byleth could think of. He’d have to go, slash, and move on. Have to congratulate everyone for a fight well done- and not succumb to the twisting in his stomach.

And in those times, he’d look at Linhardt. He’d see his hair like moss, his smile that Byleth was sure had white magic imbued into it. He needed his comfort. He needed Linhardt’s warm body and delicate laugh- and he took it. _Indulged it._

Mercenaries didn’t need emotions, so Byleth didn’t have any. It was a stabbing pain to face the reality of his own slayings. He didn’t know that he was holding back positive emotions, too. 

Linhardt opened his mouth to speak, but Byleth said, “I’m scared.”

Yes, fear. He felt that. 

He’d never voiced that before- though he hadn’t voiced much. Byleth was notoriously quiet. If only because no mistakes could be made if he said nothing at all. Another mercenary tactic.

Then again, he hadn’t considered mistakes could be made by not saying anything at all.

“I’m scared of what will happen…” 

Byleth was surrounded by loss.

If he lost Linhardt, well… He didn’t give thoughts like those the time of day, either. Not when he could be tangled in him, instead- very much alive.

Even with his aversion to blood, Linhardt had rushed to those frontlines to knock down anyone who stood in Byleth’s path, staring at him all the while. He was the sole one tending to Byleth’s wounds after battles, too.

That took some serious love, huh? Love Byleth must’ve felt.

He would never find anyone else like the lovely crest scholar before him.

Byleth struggled to find the words. He had to give Lin more than that. “I-” his voice cracked. Never had that happened before. “I’m scared I’ll lose you.”

  
  


Linhardt dared to poke one eye open. Though emotionless, Byleth’s face was red. It made Lin feel a bit better. This man was a fool- but a lucky one. “ _Everything_ I do is for you.”

No, he wouldn’t come as far as he did and not have Byleth. Lin was right in what he felt, and he would stand for it.

His friends, family, title, territory- _all, and so much more._

_Sacrifices._

If only to see Byleth one more time.

He needed to know he was alive. 

When he saw Byleth amongst the ruins, he ran. 

He would give up anything for Byleth, but he wouldn’t give up Byleth for the world. Linhardt confidently asked, “Do you really think I’d let anything come between us?”

  
  
  


The ring in Byleth’s pocket felt like a weight. His mind occupied itself with the slight outline of it in the fabric to distract himself from Linhardt’s boldness. He slid in his hand in his pocket, grabbing the ring. “Some things are out of our control-”

  
  


Just when he thought Byleth was making progress-  
“Aren’t you tired of control?” Linhardt cut him off. He didn’t know he had it within himself to say that. “Wouldn’t you just like to let things happen- let _us_ happen?”

He heard Byleth loud and clear. He wanted to be sweet, gentle, but-- “If what you want is within your grasp, then why not reach out and grab it, _Byleth_?”

  
  


Byleth had no words to say. Faint astonishment on his features. It was the most character he had shown, brows high and pupils dilated.

If he was shocked, good. And if he felt his very core questioned, even better. “Do you avoid fighting because you hate war? Do you ignore the Empire because you hate what it stands for?” Linhardt continued.

A blink from Byleth.

“You fight because you hate war, you confront the Empire because of what it stands for.” Linhardt grabbed Byleth’s wrist, his balled fist in his pocket. He merely placed his hand over Byleth’s fist, giving it a small squeeze. “You don’t run away from fear. You’ve ran to it, you’ve faced it,” he began, then paused.

Little did Linhardt know _what_ was resting on Byleth’s palm.

“... And you’ve _won_ , each time.” Linhardt’s voice softened.

  
  


Well-

Byleth didn’t have a rebuttal for Lin. No, not as singled out as he had gotten. Perhaps he was right. Maybe what scared Byleth the most was that he couldn’t control loss. When he had, he failed- and it broke him. 

“Open your fist,” Linhardt murmured. “I want to hold your hand.”

Byleth panicked internally.

Linhardt picked up Byleth’s curled fingers, unfolding them one by one. He was stubborn with his thumb, but Lin eventually moved it.

When he beheld the ring in the middle… Something in Linhardt switched. 

Linhardt ran a finger around the band in a circle, then circled the area of Byleth’s palm around it. He moved to trace every line, to go up and down the sides of his hands, the back, until he circled and came back to his palm. To the ring sitting on his palm. “Was this for me?” Lin’s voice was no more than a whisper.

  
  


Gentle fingertips on Byleth’s rough, callused hands. The touch so light, and the feeling so impactful. Hairs stood on his arm at each stroke Linhardt’s fingers. 

But Byleth composed himself, nodded. “Always on me…” he trailed, but Linhardt could hear there was more to it. Unspoken, but a reminder of what he lost- and what he’d stand to lose.

_A mother, a father, and a potential partner-_

The ring was a security blanket to Byleth.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” mumbled Linhardt.

  
  


“Don’t be. I needed to hear it.” Byleth slid the ring on Linhardt’s finger, but Linhardt only shook his head and put the ring back. He held Byleth’s hand with a soft squeeze, that ring between them. 

He needed to lighten the mood. Quick. Linhardt chuckled, “I wanted to discuss _dating_ , not _marriage_.” He tapped the tip of Byleth’s nose.

Though Byleth looked genuinely confused. His head angled and brows furrowed. “Isn’t this what people in love do?”

_Oh, Sothis_ \- what type of man was Jeralt to set this example? “Ah- no, that’s not-” Linhardt shook his head- “they date, and when things are _right_ , only _then_ do they get married.” 

In some way, seeing him like this was endearing to Linhardt.

“What’s right? How can they tell?” Byleth questioned.

_Was he messing with him, or-_ Linhardt dismissively waved his hand. “They just do. Besides…” his voice trailed.

Linhardt was soothing. He batted his lashes, long and lovely, and curled his delicate lips. 

Byleth caught on to the small golden light radiating from his fingers. He was using his magic to put Byleth at ease. 

It was a small thing that Byleth appreciated- how well Linhardt knew how to comfort him.

“I’ll be ready when you’re ready.” Linhardt said.

Byleth brought himself to smile. If there was anyone he needed to show more expression to, it was Lin, now that they were possibly a thing. They hadn’t actually gotten to that, he recalled. “So.” Byleth was reeling from everything. “Does this mean-”

Looks like Linhardt was going to be calling the shots here. He ruffled up Byleth’s light hair so they would be frizzy together. “This means you and your crest are mine. Tell Hanneman to call off his research,” he teased. Lin nodded, though, pressing his forehead against Byleth’s.

“We have a date to go on,” Byleth said, just now remembering it.

_Oh, not so fast._

Linhardt pulled away and put a finger to his chin, his gaze going to a different direction. “Hmm, I think I have a much better idea.”

  
  


His hands on Byleth’s shoulders, he walked him back until he hit the desk, pushing Byleth back onto it. Byleth barely caught himself on the desk as it creaked under him. Linhardt’s smile was nothing short of wicked. “All this love talk made me feel so sweet,” he explained.

Linhardt wasted no time as his hand shot down to grab between Byleth’s legs. “Let’s do things the proper way.”

They’d only felt each other a couple of times- rather, Linhardt felt Byleth. He would never let him reciprocate. Lin had used his hands all over him, felt every hard part of Byleth. Experimented, more like. Byleth didn’t have the luxury of doing the same back to him.

Linhardt kissed Byleth’s forehead, a simple peck, and trailed down. The bridge of his nose, the tip of it, Byleth’s cupid bow- all given love before Lin reached his lips.

Lin was domineering- an unexpected trait from him. He snaked his hand up to Byleth’s pale green hair, and _yanked_ ; opening his mouth wide for him.

He liked this, having Byleth under his control.

Byleth’s lips were rough in the right ways, his movements trained- experienced. The way their lips met, tongue used, and the complete surrender Byleth had made. He wanted to be vulnerable around Lin.

Intensity grew with each second. Linhardt’s insistence and urgency another sign of desire long buried. He pulled back to bite Byleth’s bottom lip, eyes peering up with fake innocence.

A healer and a white magician, he might’ve been- but Linhardt was pure teasing evil.

That hand between Byleth’s legs didn’t leave, either. Palming the entire time, Linhardt made sure Byleth was dizzy with lust for him. “I don’t have oil,” Lin pouted, “so consider this as a peek of what is to come.”

Every bit of Byleth’s being thrashed with lust. His nerves making him feel high and giddy, Byleth felt a blush creep over his body.

Graceful hands joined each other in playing with Byleth’s body. They crept under his shirt and ran along his torso, Lin reveling in the goosebumps he knew he left behind. His mouth occupied Byleth’s neck, nose buried deep into the crook. Sweat clung his shirt to his body, Lin’s hands peeling it off.

“I want to see you with _just_ your coat on,” Lin murmured into his skin. Hot breath lingering and shaking Byleth.

His hands moved out from under his shirt to undo his corset. It hit the floor, Byleth’s dagger skittering. He couldn’t care. It was impossible for Byleth to bring himself to worry about anything when Lin sucked his skin hungrily. 

He wondered where else Lin would use his mouth, and groaned.

Goddess, why was Byleth’s outfit so complicated? Lin bit his collarbone in slight annoyance- not that Byleth minded.

He responded with a throaty sound.

Even if the goal was to have Byleth in his jacket, he had to slide it off if he wanted to work Byleth’s shirt off.

Lin apologized, pressing a kiss to Byleth’s jaw before he broke away to get rid of his pesky top.

Byleth’s lips parted with a moan he was way too dazed to deliver. When Lin wasn’t stripping him, he was palming him- controlling him. To Lin, those lips were an invitation. He was quick to kiss him.

Maybe Linhardt savored his bare back for longer than he’d intended. He felt every muscle through rough skin, outlined every scar he’d seen before. The gentleness of the touch making Byleth roll his eyes back.

Lin pulled back to rest Byleth’s jacket on his shoulders. There was so much admiration in his gaze for the man before him- for the body that had survived everything, and then some. It squeezed Byleth’s heart, his stomach full of butterflies.

It was so typical of Linhardt. To make Byleth feel consumed from desire and dizzied, to making him realize the extent of his love in a single glance.

The moment didn’t last, though. Not as Linhardt kissed under his chin and dropped on his knees to get between Byleth’s legs. He stared up at him, batting his lashes as his hands curled in the waistband of Byleth’s pants to yank them down with his underwear. 

_Just the coat._

It swirled in Byleth’s mind.

Byleth was huge- in both size and girth. And Linhardt was more than ready to take him in. He took a breath to sturdy himself, loosen his throat. He grabbed Byleth’s hips, Byleth wasn’t prepared for the warmth of Lin’s lips teasing his head.

Precum trailed, mixed with saliva. Whatever little bit that Lin hadn’t already lapped and sucked up. He flashed Byleth that look of fake innocence as he went deeper, took more. 

More than anyone else had, either. Byleth always got complaints about that; being too big.

But, Linhardt… He acted like it was nothing. In his eyes, Byleth could tell Linhardt must’ve been in a world of his own. If Linhardt was in bliss from just taking him like this…

The feeling and the sight of Lin moving, taking more with each bob of his head, and moaning around him. Every ridge on the roof of his mouth, every movement with his tongue to the underside.

And the fact that anyone could walk by, could see. The desk rasped under Byleth’s body that felt heavier by the second.

He cursed his sensitivity for once.

As if that wasn’t enough to tip him over the edge, one of Lin’s hands went to fondle his balls, his thumb tracing small circles.

That was it.

Byleth tipped his head back, Lin’s name on his mouth, as he came into Lin’s mouth.

  
  


Linhardt went still as death. He knew Byleth came fast, learned that before, but he expected things to be different- for some reason. Too caught up in a fantasy, in a trance over Byleth’s size. 

_Oh, he loved size._

It couldn’t distract him from choking at the sudden injection of Byleth’s cum in his mouth. Any other time, he’d open his mouth and let his partner go wild at semen dripping down his full lips and soft face. He’d make out with his partner and let them have a taste, too. 

But he had no choice but to swallow, hating the feeling as it went down his throat. _Nasty._

“That didn’t take long,” he remarked, disappointed.

  
  


Byleth hung his head in shame. “Sorry…” 

His embarrassment was cute to Lin, somehow. 

Lin pushed up from his knees to observe Byleth. It always felt like the other way around. Like Byleth was taking him apart with his eyes at any given time. 

His lover’s surprisingly petite body, riddled with scars, and skin that generously showed off his lean muscles. His build was lovely. 

That black coat swallowed him. It was meant to, he’d realized, to make Byleth look bigger than he actually was.

That was cute, too, in a way… For an intimidation tactic.

Byleth properly put his coat on and closed it over himself. His body has started to get red; both from the cold air, and from how Lin’s observant and pinning stare made him feel. The coat went down to his knees. Absolutely no one would know he was stripped underneath.

  
  


Linhardt extended a hand to Byleth. “Our date, then?”

  
  


“No,” was all Byleth had said.

  
  


It hadn’t come out strong, nor commanding, but Lin hadn’t anticipated it.

Byleth marked just how surprise washed over Lin. His subtle facial changes and body language was amusing to him. 

“It’s my turn.” 

He wanted to touch Linhardt back. To Byleth, it wasn’t fair to give and not receive. Mercenaries receive payments; everyone does.

Except Lin- and he looked in dire need of some attention, if the strain in his baggy pants he tried to ignore said anything.

The desk would likely collapse under their weight, so… The cold stone floor would have to do.

Byleth hissed, his bones barking at the chill as he made to lay his back on the ground.

It wasn’t like him to take control. Only a few times had he made moves when he was younger, angry or pent up on the road. 

But this was different. 

This was a display of affection. An action necessary to show love.

Love is an emotion Byleth could feel now, and so was appreciation, too, apparently.

Linhardt didn’t need another word. He crouched down beside Byleth, brows furrowed and eyes rounded. “What are you doing?”

Oh, Saints- Byleth was awful at dirty talk. He didn’t have the abilities to be smooth. Lin was blunt, and played it off. 

Byleth tried not to sound awkward, or forceful, as he said, “Take off your boots.”

And Lin did. He set them aside

Byleth’s voice wavered. “Take- take off your pants.”

Linhardt angled his head but complied. “Okay,” he murmured. “Okay, sure.” He complied, sliding his pants right off, hesitating at the briefs he wore. 

Not that they were anything special- plain green fabric. But… Linhardt shook his head, interrupting his own nerves as he slid his underwear down, too.

He stepped out of the pooled fabric by his feet, all too aware of Byleth’s inspection. 

Byleth’s view from underneath him was more pleasant than he could’ve imagined- and he hadn’t- 

Well, maybe he had, once. But certainly not in a time with his hand wrapped around himself in a steaming bath.

The image before him… Linhardt covering his face with his hands, and his thighs- _oh, those thighs_. 

Supple, milky. Beautifully rounded in a startling way. Linhardt, himself, was slender. Nice in length, though skinnier in girth. He was… Cute. Could dicks be cute? Or was he biased to see his lover for the first time?

He was right, though; Linhardt was more than ready to get some loving back.

Byleth felt his own blood shoot elsewhere.

  
  


Linhardt seemed too shy now. Way different than the dominant personality he showed to Byleth. Versatile in all ways, perhaps.

“Sit,” Byleth said.

So Linhardt did.

This thing- Lin had an idea he knew what Byleth wanted to do. In a view of his romance novels, he’d read this type of stuff before. Mouths and hands and magic, positions that sounded so blissful in writing, he wondered how the church hadn’t banned them.

Linhardt maneuvered around Byleth best as he could. His knees straddling either side of Byleth’s torso, his arms outstretched in front of him, slowly lowering to be over his face. He was laying down on Byleth now.

He hated the work, but it was better than Byleth ruining the mood.

What would someone think if they saw this? Saw them, not being to contain themselves? When Linhardt got fully comfortable, he realized his face aligned over Byleth’s cock- already half hard with his bubbling excitement.

It wasn’t something Byleth had done before, honestly. Heard of before, seen before, but never acted out. Linhardt had a nice ass. Smaller, but adorable- rounded and grabbable. He gave himself the luxury of having a squeeze, and enjoyed the choked whimper coming from Lin.

The first move he made was spreading Lin wide open, his hand on either cheek. Lin groaned from the exposure to the cold. 

Byleth was practically dopey- yet for an entirely different reason. 

Earlier, he wanted Lin all over him. Now, he wanted to be all over his lover.

His tongue dragged across the dip of Lin, that sensitive ring of muscle. His tongue teased, running over it and just barely entering him. Linhardt always took impeccable care of himself; Byleth wasted no time worrying whether he’d be clean or not. A gamble that paid off just swell.

Shivers wracked Linhardt’s body at the lazy manipulation from Byleth. He wanted to throw himself back, ride his face, but he felt too boneless already. He rested his head on Byleth’s thigh, and let all the vulgar noises spill from his mouth.

Byleth moved a hand to stroke Lin off, and, Goddess, Lin bit him at the sudden sensation.

Toned, defined in an experienced way, Linhardt bit straight into skin coated muscle. Byleth’s body was made for him. He licked over the bite. Lin needed something to do with his tongue, with his hands. He felt like a spasming mess. His body always did when he felt good.

Tears rimmed his eyes, and he stifled a broken sob.

Nowhere near close, but the fact that he had Byleth-

He didn’t mean to grind back on Byleth’s face the way he did.

Byleth didn’t expect to get fully hard from Lin biting him, either, but there was no stopping it. 

It was the perfect thing for Linhardt to occupy his mouth with. He flicked his tongue over it, ran a cold hand across it. Goddess, he worshipped it.

The ardor of his lust for this man was maddening. 

Byleth had plunged his tongue in long ago, but Lin only just noticed.

Neither lasted long. How could they? Lin cried as he came, and Byleth wasn’t long after.

They completely threw the idea of a date out the window, and ran to Lin’s room.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS SO SELF INDULGENT I WONT EVEN LIEE  
> I  love  linleth and have been having such awful brainrot. I stayed up until 6 am on a regular basis to write this.  
> also realized i should write in ao3s editor bc moving files from docs to here always messes up the formatting
> 
> if you enjoyed this fic, please consider following me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/xanthocera)!


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